Don't Knock It
by AnihyrMoonstar
Summary: In three, painfully awkward minutes, Tucker comes out about his sexuality, gets a busted lip, and receives his first kiss—but not in that order. Tucker/Danny, OneShot


**A/N:** Same universe as "Simple Physics" but, since it's set earlier, reading the other is not necessary for this to make sense. Originally I typed that this took place junior year, but now I'm thinking...why the heck couldn't it have happened freshman year? And that makes it cuter _and_ more believable. So, um, this happened sometime during the show, they just never talked about it, obviously. :P Yes this is SLASH, written totally for kicks, short and pretty much fluffy. Read and review to make my day. :)

**Don't Knock It**

or:

_Why Wrestling in Socks on a Tiled Floor is a Very Bad Idea—or Possibly a Totally Brilliant One_

"Heck yes, _headshot!_" Tucker cheered wildly, fist pumping into the air with his victory whoop. "Dude, that's _two_ killapaluzas, sixteen blast grenade kills whole battle, _and_ a kick ass sniper score…beat _that_," he challenged, and beside him, Danny groaned.

"Man, Tuck, you just _play _this too much…" he whined, lip budding out in a solid pout, "_and_ you were totally screen-watching when I went inviz…"

"Was not!" defended Tucker. "'Sides, fair's fair in sex and videogames." Tucker tapped at his controller, moving them out to the log-in screen. "So," He tossed a grin in Danny's direction, "round seven? Or you wanna save what's left of your pride, concede victory now to Grand Gamemaster Tuckard Foley, sniper extraordinaire and take a break for a three-meat sandwich?"

"Sex and videogames?" asked Danny, knocking off his shoes and bringing socked feet up onto Tucker's comforter; Tucker had ditched his shoes long ago. "Isn't it supposed to be love and war or something?"

"Pshh," Tucker waved a hand, dropping his controller to the bed and standing, "nahh, that's totally old school. I was…modernizing it."

"Uh-_huh_," said Danny, but Tucker caught the upward twitch of his lips and grinned.

"You know you like it," he asserted. "So, what'll it be? Turkey, ham, beef, chicken? And you wanna drink, too?"

"Ehh…I'll just join you and make my own," said Danny, slipping off the bed and following Tucker into the kitchen.

It was a Saturday night—or, possibly Sunday morning by now, if one got technical—sleepover at Tucker's house. Sam hadn't shown up for one reason or another, a perfect excuse for Tucker and Danny to stay up into the wee hours of the morning on a play-till-you-drop video-game spree. Thus far, it had been pretty much a straight showcase of Tucker's 'leet pwning skillz'—i.e. grinding Danny into the dust. All things considered, Danny took it reasonably well.

"Hmm…we got…all the aforementioned, plus…Mama's leftover pot pie, some raisin pudding from Thursday and…"

"Oh, sweet, oatmeal cream cookies!" said Danny, grinning as he snatched down an open box from the kitchen cupboard, and Tucker turned away from the open fridge, frowning as Danny shook out the contents.

"Hey, wait-"

"Aww…only one left," Danny observed.

"Yeah, I was _saving_ that," said Tucker, and Danny looked up halfway into pulling back the wrapper.

"Oh _really_…" he said, and Tucker didn't like the look of that mischievous glint.

"Danny…" he warned, taking a step forward. Danny took one back.

"Yeah, Tuck?"

"That's my cookie…" Another step, and he shut the fridge behind him.

Again, Danny retreated. "I don't see your _name_ on it…" he said, thoughtfully turning the thing over and making a show of searching for some form of identification.

"_Danny_…" Tucker made a swipe for it, but missed as Danny swerved deftly. "This is my," He tried again, "house…" only to miss again and skid, almost losing his balance due to the slippery nature of socks on the tiled floor.

"You steal cookies in my house all the time," Danny pointed out, dipping and weaving out of the way each time Tucker made an approach, grin broadening each time, and they were about the same size and height, but Danny had the agility advantage hands down. "Think of it as…payback for that time you took the last brownie…"

"The…that was Christmas of _last_ year!" exclaimed Tucker, exacerbated, and he made a wild snatch, just managing to catch Danny's wrist, but Danny quickly phased leaving his hand to fall through, and he yelped, suddenly totally unsupported in mid-space. Danny noticed the result, but a second too late, and came back solid, trying to catch him but only succeeding in getting a hand snatching and just catching his shoulder, yanking him off balance too, and then they were both slipping, falling, tangled together and totally awkward until—

_THUD_.

"_Oww_…" Tucker declared loudly, wincing and scrunching up his eyes as he brought a finger up to his throbbing mouth and—yup, he frowned at the unmistakable red stain when he pulled it back, licking his tongue over the split and drawing in the salty, metallic taste—blood. Above him, Danny was groaning, sitting back on his haunches, knees settled over either side of Tucker's waist as he mirrored Tucker's actions, also frowning at his own battle scar, and then—Tucker came to sudden conclusion and whined for an entirely different reason. "_Danny_…"

"What?" His best friend looked down, still frowning and wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, rotating his jaw.

"Dude…I think you just totally stole my first kiss."

"I…wait, _what_?" said Danny, "How…" and then, Tucker watched as the pieces started falling together, Danny's midnight eyes darting from Tucker's busted lip to the blood on his own fingers. When he reached up, brushing his similarly bruised mouth, his eyes widened. "We…I…_ohhh_…" A fetching warm flush rose up his neck, into his cheeks, and he swallowed, "but…it wasn't…that doesn't _count_…" he said, "…right? We didn't…it wasn't on _purpose_…"

Below, Tucker scowled, nursing his wounded lip with finger and tongue again before sighing and crossing his arms. "Well, your mouth and my mouth came in direct contact, and it wasn't mouth to mouth resuscitation so…I'm pretty sure it 'counts.' Unless, you know a different definition of 'kiss,' 'cause-"

"Wait…" said Danny, brow furrowing, "you've never been kissed?"

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I think that was kina implied by the word 'first' in my previous statement."

But Danny wasn't put off so easily. "_Really_? You've never…not even _once_? Like, a tiny peck, or a brush or…_any_thing?" he stressed, and Tucker frowned, resisting the urge to squirm because Danny leaned down when he spoke and, now over the initial shock, his body was starting to take into account smaller details of the situation—like the fact that Danny was straddling his waist, their hips in direct alignment to where he could feel Danny's body heat through his jeans, and—Tucker swallowed awkwardly.

"No, Danny…never…really…and could you umm…" He felt heat rise in his cheeks as Danny licked his lips again, a very personal part of him twitching in response, and—not_ now_, he pleaded with himself, "g-get off…like…now…?"

"Huh? Are you ok?"

"Uhh…" Tucker squinted his eyes shut, praying _please don't notice, please get off, please don't notice, please don't notice, please_… He heard Danny swallow and peaked an eye open—shit.

"Tucker…" Danny began warily.

"What?" responded Tucker in a very _small_ voice, shutting his eyes again as his cheeks flared hotly.

"Are you…" Above him, Danny shifted uncertainly, "is that what I _think_ it-"

_"ItsnotmyfaultandImsorry," _Tucker pleaded in a tangled rush, "so could you just...get off me now?" but when Danny didn't move, he forced himself to look.

"Err…what?" Danny looked more confused than anything else.

Well, at least he wasn't mad. That was a start. Tucker swallowed. "Yes, it is," he admitted, abashed, "and I'm sorry, I meant to tell you before," His words came fast, "but it's not just you. That is, I don't have some creepy crazy crush on you, don't worry, it just…happens…and I like girls too," he hastened to add, "I wasn't faking that, I just…I think I like guys at least as much but it's not cause I'm in love with you or anything, it's anyone who's kina cute or hot so don't, umm…" He took a nervous breath, "…please don't hate me?"

Danny raised his eyebrows. "You think I'm hot?"

Tucker stared, expression degenerating into a sort of 'well, _duh_' look before he raised an eyebrow of his own. "Uhh…_yeah_?"

"Oh," said Danny, and—Danny had a really cute blush, "ok, umm…cool."

"Sooo…" Tucker folded his hands behind his head, tilting it slightly, "you going to…let me up or what?" he asked.

"Oh! Right, yeah," said Danny, but he didn't move. From below, Tucker watched Danny's eyes glance to his lips, dart away, and then meander back. "So, you…you're bi, then?"

Tucker shrugged. "Guess so."

"But you've…" Danny frowned. "How have you managed to go after so many girls and not even get kissed _once_?"

"Well, rub it in, why don't'cha…" grumbled Tucker, and there was that blush again. "In case you haven't noticed, the ladies have yet to respond well to my general, err…fervor…and anyway, you say that like _you_ have a ton of experience? Mr. I'm-so-totally-in-denial-I-won't-even-admit-I'm-crushing-on-my-best-fri-"

"_Ok_, ok. Right, sorry," apologized Danny, slightly testy, "but, well, yeah, actually I _do_ have some experience, thank you very much…"

"Uh-huh, as proven by your leet, lip-busting _skillz_," Tucker muttered, "totally kick-ass."

"Hey," Danny defended, "that's not fair, I could do way better if I were actually _trying_."

"Oh yeah?" Tucker pushed up onto his elbows. "_Prove_ it," he challenged, the words spilling out before he quite finished thinking through exactly what they meant, and then Danny shifted, placing a hand on either side of Tucker on the floor and leaning forward.

"Ok…" His breath tickled, warm against Tucker's lips, "maybe I will…" and Tucker's heart stutter-leaped, pounding at his ribs as if trying to break its way free as Danny's lips timidly brushed, soft and damp and hot, over his—and he forced down his first, instinctive sound, afraid too much might scare Danny off.

After the first few seconds of nervous, lingering, feather-light pressure, though, he couldn't stand it and pressed further forward, taking the initiative to seal their lips, and whether because of the kiss or added pressure on their bruises, Tucker didn't know, but Danny made a soft, tenor sound at the press and—it might as well have had a direct connection with every nerve ending in Tucker's body for all the effect it had—he shuddered.

"Danny…"

"Mm…hm?" Danny responded, their lips catching slightly more boldly now, and if Tucker folded his upper and lower lip over Danny's bottom one and flicked his tongue out—Danny definitely keened that time. "_Tucker_…"

"Yeah?" he asked, barely breathing the word before daring to venture a fraction further, teasing the valley between Danny's lips and—Danny pulled sharply back. Tucker blinked up—and swallowed. "Sorry, did I…do that wrong?" he asked, and Danny—previously light pink cheeks now totally flush and verging on a soft red—shook his head.

"Uhh-mm…n-no…not at…not at all, that was…it just surprised me, is all," he said. "Let's…err… try that again?" he suggested, making it a question, and Tucker readily agreed.

This time, he let Danny initiate the tongue, and Danny tasted—fantastic, Tucker thought. The slight metallic tang of blood lingered, but under that it was totally unique, all Danny, and the kissing occasionally came with an uncomfortable jolt when they bumped too close or too hard, but that didn't really match up to the feel of lapping, curling tongues, and all in all the entire process was clumsy and wet and messy—and Tucker thought it had to be the greatest thing since meat-lover's pizza.

It took them a long time to part, and only then because Tucker's elbows were starting to hurt from staying so long propped up on the hard floor.

"So," panted Danny softly.

"So?" responded Tucker, pushing up onto his hands for more of a sitting position to let up off his elbows. This way, Danny was almost more in his lap than anything else.

"So, that was just…proof," reaffirmed Danny.

Tucker nodded. "Yeah, sure," he agreed.

"And…?" asked Danny.

"Eh," Tucker shrugged, "you're ok, I guess," he said, working hard to retain a straight face.

"_Ok?_" said Danny, aghast, and Tucker lasted about two more seconds before breaking down, sniggering and grinning.

"Ok, ok," he conceded, "so maybe better than ok…maybe only like, totally beyond great and probably the hottest of my life experiences to date, as lame as that makes me sound, happy?"

Shy at first, and then bolder, Danny returned his smile. "Yeah, actually, it was kina hot, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, only kina," Tucker teased. Then he asked, "So, you're…bi too?" and Danny's lips thinned uncertainly.

"Err…well…I _thought_ I was straight…" he said, but Tucker just shrugged it off, unconcerned.

"Eh, don't knock it till you try it?" he offered, and Danny suddenly grinned.

"I think we knocked it and tried it at the same time," he said, and Tucker rolled his eyes, "…but, umm, seriously…please don't tell Sam?"

Tucker snorted. "'Course not," he said, following Danny up as he stood and shaking out his arms to clear the tight muscles, still for too long. "I'd have to watch my balls for life if she found out I was kissin' on her crush," he said, winking teasingly and relishing in the way Danny's cheeks heated all over again at the notion. "So…ready to go back to having your ass handed to you?"

"Round seven it is," Danny agreed, then called, "Race you upstairs!" at the last second and immediately phased out, levitating upward.

"Hey, wait, no _fair_!" Tucker instantly called foul, and started a mad scramble for his room.

_Press the green button; make me smile._


End file.
